


The Journey Home

by justcallmeasmodeus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 11:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13317270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justcallmeasmodeus/pseuds/justcallmeasmodeus
Summary: You go out on a hunt by yourself and it all goes wrong. The only thing you can remember is Dean, Lebanon, Kansas. Can you make it home?





	The Journey Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is both my first supernatural fic and my first reader insert style fic. I hope you enjoy! Please leave comments and kudos, I live for it!

The Journey Home

Lightning flashed, lighting up the dark forest around you. You put your hand on the shoulder of the person slumped over in the passenger seat of the jeep. Somewhere behind you a monster lurked in the darkness. You were on this hunt on your own, there had been no way to slay and save. You were just about to pray for Cas for help when the sudden cracking of a falling branch interrupted your thoughts.

You jerked the wheel to the left, trying to avoid disaster. The ground off the path was too soft from the rainfall, your Jeep tires began sliding as you struggled to keep control. You hit a branch, muttering explicits under your breath as you braced yourself. You stood on your break as a tree came into view, but it was no use. Thinking quickly you lifted the emergency brake, causing the Jeep to spin. You managed to miss the tree, but the momentum from the spinning took you over the edge of a small cliff. Your Jeep slid backwards, slamming into a tree. Your head slammed into the steering wheel, causing the world to go fuzzy as your Jeep began to barrel roll down the rest of the hill. You blacked out just before your Jeep came to rest in a lake with a giant splash.

You came to slowly, your vision focusing with every few blinks. It took a few moments for you to steady your equilibrium; you were upside down, underwater, and sinking fast. Your body took over for your mind; your will to live was stronger than the weakness of your mind. You grabbed for the knife at your ankle, white hot pain searing your body with every movement. You pushed through it, cutting yourself out of the seatbelt. The crumpled top of the Jeep held you in place as you finished breaking the cracked window and cleaned out the broken pieces with the hilt of your knife, very aware of the quickly rising water level.

You pulled your protesting body out, treading the cold and murky lake water. Black spots danced along your vision, willing you to stop and give in to a watery grave. Something inside you kept pushing you to the shore. You felt the muck underneath your fingernails as you heaved yourself out of the water. Once your face felt grass, you let the darkness take over. 

\---------

“Hmmmm. Y/N’s Jeep is gone. Shouldn’t she be back by now?” Sam asked Dean as they pulled into the garage.

“Maybe something came up.” Dean shrugged, trying to look indifferent. “She would have called Cas if something was really wrong.” He looked over into Sam’s eyes, and Sam could see the worry in the deepening wrinkles on his brothers face. “Right?”

“Right.” Sam said, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. 

“You’re getting better at not being so overprotective.” Cas said from the backseat. “And I haven’t heard from Y/N.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. She can handle herself.” Dean nodded, as if he had convinced himself.

“She’s got a great mentor.” Cas said, his voice matter-of-fact as he got out of the car.

“And an even better boyfriend.” Sam punched his shoulder playfully.

“Right.” Dean snorted, a smile spreading across his face. “I’m sure she’ll call.”

\----------

“Dean, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you don’t stop pacing.” Sam huffed, throwing his his book down on the table.

“She hasn’t called. I can’t reach her. Cas can’t find her because of her fucking angel blocking tattoo.” Dean ran a hand over his face. “What if something happened?”

“Dean, it’s been a week. You know how cases get sometimes.” 

“She always calls.” 

The Winchesters both jumped at the knock on the door. Dean ran to answer it, hoping that it was Y/N, dreading that it wouldn’t be. His heart sank to his feet as he opened it to the pity filled smile of a police officer’s face.

“Mr. Winchester?”

“Yes?” The officer took off his hat, and Dean’s face paled. That was never a good sign.

“A hunter in White River, SD called in an accident. It took a few days before we could investigate-”

“Can you get to the point?” Dean cut him off.

“Dean.” Sam said gently, indicating behind the police officer.

Dean looked over the police officer’s shoulder and saw the tow truck. His eyes traveled to the back and his heart twisted just as much as the metal frame of the Jeep that he built for you. His vision tunnelled and he stopped listening to the nonsense words that were coming out of the police officer’s mouth. His trained eyes picked out the blood from across the yard.

“Is she okay?” He interrupted the police officer, tearing his eyes away so he could look him in the face.

“We found a body in the truck.”

Sam caught Dean by the shoulders just before he hit the pavement.

\---------  
Something inside you was telling you to move. Your body protested, but your soul screamed. You tried to think back to what happened, but all you could pull from your foggy brain were flashes of memories.

Lightning. The crack of a tree branch. Mud. Water.

You couldn’t remember why you were driving. You couldn’t remember why you were in this forest. You couldn’t remember your name. There was only one thing that was clear in your mind: Dean, Lebanon, Kansas. You had to get back.

The pain burned white hot as you tried to move in the mud. You tried to stand, but your legs wouldn’t support your weight. Instead, you drug yourself away from the scarred land, one agonizing pull at a time.

The first day you only made it 3 miles.

The next day you started crawling again, but after another mile you passed out. When you woke up you were in a bed. Looking around, you were in a room with two makeshift curtain walls. The floor was hard packed dirt, and the permanent walls were made logs. Your wounds were bandaged and the throbbing had subsided. Your clothes had been changed and the mud had been washed from your body. 

You stretched, wincing and whining as sharp pains tore hot through your body. You heard movement outside the curtain in response to your movements. You heard light footsteps approach the curtain, pulling it back and revealing a concerned face. He was slender, his body lean and strong from years of physical labor. His tan skin was stretched over high cheekbones and framed by raven black hair. HIs deep brown eyes bore into yours, and you felt like he was quite possibly reading your soul.

“Take it easy, you’re still pretty hurt.” His voice was soft and kind.

“Water.” You managed to croak through the burning of your dry throat.

“Here, easy.” He held the glass to your lips, helping you drink.

“Thank you.” Your voice was still shaky, but stronger. “How long?”

“You’ve been here, in White River, SD, for about three weeks now. I’m Takoda, the medicine man. Do you know your name?”

You shook your head slowly, unsure of what movements would hurt. 

“Do you remember anything?”

“I think there was a crash, and then I crawled.”

“Is that it? Do you remember why you were there or where you’re from?” Takoda sat down on the edge of the bed next to you.

“No.” Something inside you told you not to tell Takoda about Dean, but you weren’t sure what, or why. 

“Well let’s give you a name for starters.” Takoda closed his eyes and placed his hand over your forehead. His hand was warm on your skin, his touch light. You closed your eyes and it felt like he was reading into your soul. “I think we’ll call you Akecheta for now. At least until you remember your own name.” 

“What’s it mean?” You asked, struggling to sit up.

“Fighter.” He helped you into a sitting position. “Wait here, I’ll get you some food.” 

On day 21, you stayed 15 miles from the scene of the accident.

\-------

Dean sat on the ground in front of the empty grave marker. A thousand words could describe her, but he couldn’t bring a single one to mind now. Something didn’t feel right about this; something inside of him was screaming that she was alive. Tears burned at the back of his eyes but no more would fall. He reached out and touched the cold granite, trying to make it real in his mind, trying to convince his soul to believe that you were gone. 

“Dean, it’s getting cold out. Come inside.” Sam walked out and put an arm around his brother, and Dean allowed himself to be led into the house.

“She’s not dead.” Dean mumbled over dinner.

“Dean, we’ve been over this.” Sam sighed. “We saw the body. She’s not coming back. It’s been over a month. You’ve got to move on.”

“Yeah, and how do you suppose that I do that?” Dean looked at Sam with fire in his eyes.

“I don’t know! Drink, eat some pie, fix up the car. Isn’t that what you usually do after someone dies?”

“She isn’t dead!” Dean stood up, pounding his fist on the table and causing the dishes to rattle. “And even if she was, this isn’t something I can just get over, or forget about, or fix. I can’t fix the Jeep, I can’t fix this.” Dean slumped back in his chair, his shoulders drooping in defeat. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face, his eyes burning with tears again. “I don’t know what to do Sammy.” He confessed.

\------------

“Uses for witch hazel; chicken pox, sunburn, teething babies, sore throat, bug bites, poison oak, ticks, and cleaning and disinfecting wounds.” You listed, checking Takoda’s supply of witch hazel to make sure you had enough for the tribe before winter kicked in. 

“Very good Ake, you’re a quick study. Now what about mint?”

You bit your cheek and looked to the ceiling as you searched your brain to remember.

“Mint leaves are good for indigestion and…” your brain started to get fuzzy as you tried to remember what else mint was used for, but Takoda let you work out the answer. Eventually it came to you. “...cholesterol.”

“Excellent. Now, let’s go do our rounds.” 

You watched him as you worked with the people of the tribe. Takoda was calm and gentle. He was a giver, a protector. He had convinced these people to take you in as one of them, even though you knew nothing about yourself. It was a fresh start, whether you deserved or needed one or not. 

And yet.

Something kept tugging at you. Dean, Lebanon, Kansas. It showed up in your dreams, it haunted you during the day. When the wind blew south everything inside you begged you to go with it. 

“What’s bothering you Ake?” Takoda asked you later that night over dinner. 

“I need to go. I’m grateful for all that you’ve done, and all that you’ve taught me, but…”

“Your soul calls to your old life.” Takoda finished to you. Was it really that obvious? “I can see it in your eyes.” He smiled warmly at you. “You are true to your name, Ake. I’m sure I can’t persuade you to at least stay through the winter?”

“No.” You shook your head. “It shouldn’t be that far. I’ll get there in less than a week. Before the first snowfall I’m sure.” 

“You’re still weak.”

“I know,” you grinned, “that’s why I gave myself a week.”

The next morning you left before sunrise, quietly packing a bag of supplies to last you for a week. You thought twice, and packed a trap just in case. You walked outside, pulling your light jacket close to you against the bitter chill in the morning air. Taking a deep and burning breath, you closed your eyes and listened. You felt that ever familiar tug on your soul, and this time you followed it. 

Dean, Lebanon, Kansas.

On the 175th day, you made it 20 miles.

\--------

“Dean, it’s been six months.” Sam said as the blonde walked away from their table at the bar.

“I know.” He poured himself another double and downed it.

“Don’t tell me you still think she’s alive. We searched for her for two months and we didn’t find anything. We checked the surrounding towns for Jane Does, we went through 10 square miles of the surrounding forest and we couldn’t find her or her body. There is no sign that the body they found, that we buried, wasn’t hers. You have to let her go Dean.”

“I can’t Sam. She’s my life.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black box. Sam’s heart sank to his feet. “I was going to propose to her.”

“Dean, how long have you been carrying that around?”

“I picked it up about a week after…” Dean took a drink and swallowed hard. “... after they dropped the Jeep off. I ordered it just before we left on that last hunt.”

“Last call boys, we’re closing early tonight.” The bartender interrupted their conversation, bill already in hand.

“It’s only 10:30?” Sam raised on eyebrow as he looked at his watch.

“There’s an early blizzard coming through. 12-15 inches. Frank wants us all out before 11 so we have time to get home.” She glanced at the open ring box on the counter. “Pretty ring, lucky girl. Congrats.” She sat down the bill and left.

“We’d better get going.” Sam threw down some money while Dean finished his drink.

\------------

The snowstorm caught you by surprise. It was early in the year for snow, especially in such a large amount. It took you two hours to find shelter after the snow started falling. It was a small cave, and while it didn’t offer any help heat-wise, it did offer protection from the high winds and driving snow. You huddled in the back, trying desperately to curl into a ball and warm yourself with your own body heat. Eventually you fell asleep, shaking in the back of the cave and clutching your pack for some semblance of warmth.

When you woke up the next morning, your body ached from the combination of cold and sleeping on a stone floor. The snow still blew outside, with no signs of letting up. You looked around the cave you had taken shelter in while chewing on a piece of jerky for breakfast, and to your surprise one of the walls was stacked high with wood. It was old at least a few years old, but it wasn’t dry rotted and it would burn. You dug through your bag to find your flint before working up the courage to move. 

You stretched gingerly as you stood up, slowly making your way over to the woodpile. The wood was stacked over your head, so you carefully pulled from the middle of the pile. The first few pieces came out easy enough, and you stacked them by the edge of the cave. Gathering up a little kindling from the cave floor, you placed it in the center of your firewood stack and reached for your flint. Your shaking hands coaxed a fire to life, and you breathed a sigh of relief. The immediate danger of freezing to death was gone, so you took a minute to chastise yourself for not waiting out winter where you were safe. In the back of your mind you knew that had you stayed, you might not have left.

You checked your food supply and debated on setting out your trap, but you knew with the way that the snow was falling it would be covered in a manner of hours. Instead you settled back against the slowly warming stone wall and closed your eyes. You tried to remember more about your past, but nothing came to mind. You fell asleep repeating the only thing you remembered. 

Dean, Lebanon, Kansas.

The cold wind woke you up. The fire was almost out, and the wind had shifted so that it was blowing into the cave. You got up quickly, hurring over to the wood and grabbing a piece to keep the fire from going out. You pulled too hard, causing the pile to creak. You froze, eyes wide, wondering if the whole pile would come crashing down on you. It held, and you let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. You placed the piece you had on the embers that were left. You smiled as the flame started to grow, and you went back for a few more pieces. 

This time when you grabbed them, even though you were careful, the pile gave. You turned to run, but it was no use. You blacked out when you hit the floor, and when you woke up the fire was back to embers again. You reached out to pull yourself out from under the logs on top of you and nearly screamed. Your left leg was on fire with every move you made. 

You turned back and pushed whatever logs off of you that you could before gritting your teeth and pulling yourself the rest of the way out. You broke a sweat from the pain, groaning as you rolled yourself over. You threw some logs on the fire from where you were, and laid back down. The world was starting to swim before your eyes, and you needed to gather your senses.

The roaring pain subsided to a dull ache, and you pulled yourself into a sitting position, despite a white hot protest from your left hip. You felt down your leg and cried out in pain as your tibia, which was now in two pieces, grated together. 

“Son of a bitch.” You murmured under your breath. 

You saw two straight logs close by and you pulled them to you. You reached for your supplies sack and gasped as more pain shot through you. You pulled string out of your pack and created a makeshift splint, following Takoda’s instructions he gave as he splinted the leg of a neighbor after they fell off their horse. 

You ate a piece of jerky and a slice a bread, making sure to ration your food in even smaller portions. This injury wasn’t going to stop you, but it was going to slow you down. The snow and wind had stopped, so if the weather held you decided to make a break for it in the morning. 

When the morning dawned the weather was still calm, so you hauled yourself up with the nearest thin log. Using it as a makeshift crutch you hobbled your way outside. You hobbled, putting the pain in the farthest reaches of your mind. 

On the 179th day, you made it two miles.

\------------

“How did she always manage to make this look so easy?” Dean cried as he threw down a bundle of tangled Christmas lights. The all too familiar burn of tears burned at the back of his throat, but he swallowed hard and it went away. 

“It’s the day after Thanksgiving, why are you even bothering?” Sam asked, walking into the library with two mugs of coffee.

“We always put up decorations the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Always? More like for the last three years since Y/N decided that holidays were mandatory.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” Dean’s tone was venomous.

“Chill, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just…” Sam reached out and gently touched Dean’s shoulder, “you can wait a little bit if you need to.”

“If she comes home she’ll be pissed if the decorations aren’t up.”

“Dean…” 

“What Sam?” The fire in his eyes made Sam rethink what he was going to say.

“I’m going to go upstairs to clean.”

Sam walked upstairs and began searching through files. He looked down at Dean struggling with the lights and sighed. It had been so long, yet Dean hadn’t made any improvements at all. He still cooked dinner for the three of them. He still sat a place for her, still looked for her when they came home. Sam looked outside, debating on if he should pray to Cas or not.

He noticed something making its way over the snow covered hill. At first he thought it was just an animal, but then he realized it was walking on two legs. He grabbed a pair of binoculars off of a shelf and took a closer look.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, taking the binoculars away and rubbing his eyes before he took another look. “Holy shit. Dean!”

“Sammy!” Dean was running up the stairs two at a time. “What’s wrong?”

“Look.” He handed Dean the binoculars and pointed out the window.

“You screamed at me because you sa-” Dean dropped the binoculars and took off down the stairs as fast as his body would carry him. He threw out open the door, taking off across the snow as fast as he could.

\---------

It had been two days since you ran out of food. You were fairly certain that you had frost bite on every extremedy, and your leg felt like it was on fire, but you were so close you couldn’t stop. Your lips were so cracked they were bleeding. You kept your eyes closed because the cold stung and your tears were freezing down your cheeks. You shuffled, leading with your right foot. You could feel that you were close, so close.

You stumbled, falling in the snow. You didn’t get up this time, you couldn’t. You were so tired, and the snow was so comforting. All you wanted was to be warm, and full, and home. 

“I’m sorry Dean.” You whispered. You closed your eyes and let the darkness seep in.

“Y/N!” 

It sounded far off, like someone was calling you from across the world, and you didn’t recognize the name. But the voice was what you had been searching for. That voice was home. The darkness stopped, and you started fighting it.

“Y/N!”

You forced your eyes open and saw him running all out across the yard. You reached out for him, needing to feel his touch.

“It’s alright baby, it’s okay. I’m right here. Just hang on love, I’ve got you.” He murmured as he gently pulled you close to him.

“Dean.” His name was a whisper on your lips.

“Shhh it’s alright Y/N.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head. “Fight for me, please hold on.”

You tried to fight, but you were too cold, too hungry, and too weak. The darkness was closing in again and this time you couldn’t stop it. 

\--------

“Castiel if you do not get your feathered ass down here right now-” Dean couldn’t finish his threat as the tears started to fall from his eyes. He clutched Y/N close to his chest as her breathing began to shallow.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was the best thing Dean had heard in nearly a year. “Dean why are you outside?”

“Fix her please.” 

Dean turned back toward Castiel, and his eyes widened as he saw Y/N in his arms. Cas bent down and touched a hand to her forehead, healing her wounds. No more frostbite, resetting broken legs and dislocated joints.

“She’s not waking up Cas, why is she not waking up?” 

“Take her inside, she’ll wake up.” 

Dean took her inside and laid her down in bed. He crawled in next to her, unwilling to let her leave his sight, untrusting that his mind wasn’t playing a trick on him.

“Dean, how long are you going to be like this?” She croaked, opening an eye.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm.” She snuggled into his chest as he kissed the top of her head and held her.

\-------

There wasn’t more than a pinprick of light when it suddenly became blindingly bright. You felt yourself slowly warming; from the inside out. You felt your aches melt away as your injuries healed, and you felt as though your mind was pulled down out of the clouds as your memories came back.

When you opened your eyes you were laying in the bed you shared with Dean, crushed against his chest. You missed his solid foundation, the way his arms wrapped around you like they could shield out all of the bad in the world. You missed the way he smelled; fresh and strong, like a spring day after a thunderstorm. You missed the feel of his unshaven face resting on the top of your head, and the sound of his heart beating beneath your ears.

“Dean, how long are you going to be like this?” You murmured, your voice cracking from so many days of not being used.

“Y/N?” He asked as though he still wasn’t sure that it was all real.

“Mhm.” You purred against his chest, turning so you could wrap one of your arms around him and hold him close to you.

“What happened?”

“There was a crash. I couldn’t remember anything except for your name and Lebanon, Kansas. I knew that I had to get back.” You yawned, fighting exhaustion from the journey and healing.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“Sleep sweetheart. You can tell me the rest later. All that matters right now is that you’re home.”

 

On the 187th day, you made it home.


End file.
